A Dance with the Goblin King
by FreeSpiritSeeker
Summary: Years after his defeat by Sarah, Jareth has become bored. He has decided to find a new girl to challenge. Crystal is still grieving the death of her twin sister when she is kidnapped by Jareth to the land of the Goblins. Her prize: Her own memories!
1. Chapter 1

Jareth stalked back and forth across his throne room. It had been far too long since he'd visited the human world and wreaked havoc. Not since Sarah. A soft pang struck his heart at the thought of her. He wondered what had become of the beautiful girl who'd captured a part of his heart. He flexed his muscles and within seconds his form had changed to that of a snowy owl; on silent wings he sailed through the air towards the portal between the worlds. The worlds of the human and that of imagination. The barrier was a thin one and was becoming thinner every year. As he passed through it, he felt a tingling surge over his body.

He continued to fly until he reached the outskirts of a large city, a place entirely removed from the place where Sarah had been found. He perched on the edge of a shop and watched the hustle and bustle of the city streets. Jareth found himself mesmerized by the strangely haunting movements of a young woman making her way to the doorway of a building. He flew closer, perching on the ledge and peering into the glass fronted doorway. Inside, the room was bare, with only a hardwood floor, and mirrors on every wall. A long bar stood about waist-high. It took a moment before he realized it was a dance studio.

The young woman he'd spied earlier returned to his view, now clad in a leggings and a sweatshirt instead of the denim jeans and tshirt she'd been in before. Her hair had been wound around into a bun and pinned into place, no longer down in the messy braid it had been in when he'd first seen her. He watched, transfixed as she began to swing her body into positions that he knew had to have taken years of training.

Several others had now joined her on the floor and he heard one of them call out the name "Crystal". The young woman looked up and smiled. So, her name was Crystal. As beautiful and fragile-looking as the rock that also bore her name, Jareth thought. He continued to watch until night had fallen. After the young woman closed up the studio, Jareth flew silently alongside her as she made her way home. She walked to a building that was at least as old as the dance studio.

Crystal climbed several flights of stairs to her small apartment. The second she opened the door, she flipped on the overhead light and tossed her bag onto the table beside the door. She locked the door and dropped her keys into a small, fish-shaped bowl. She picked her mail up from the floor where it had fallen when her neighbor Mr. Helgeson had pushed it through the slot.

She smiled at the thought of the very nice but slightly zany old man who was her neighbor. At sixty, he was as spry as a twenty-year-old and totally outrageous. He blared an eclectic range of music -from folk, country, blues, rock and oldies- at all hours of the day and night, made beautiful jewelry which he sold online and took a variety of classes on the local college campus to meet "babes". Crystal sincerely hoped she was as active-mentally as well as physically-as Mr. Helgeson was when she was sixty.

Just as she was about to go into the kitchen she caught a glimpse of something white flash by her window. Startled, she crept towards the window and screamed when a large owl flew at the window before simply disappearing. She clutched at her heart as it felt like it was going to pound right out of her chest. She opened the window and looked around for any sign of the owl, but found nothing, until a long white feather gently fluttered towards her. She reached out and grabbed it, pulling it inside as she shut the window. She stood looking at it for a moment before placing it on the desk beside the window.

She made her way into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of cold water from the refrigerator and opening the freezer to peer inside to find something fast for supper. Sighing in disgust, she finally pulled a frozen meal out and opened it, pulling open the plastic from one corner and tossing it into the microwave for the amount of time the package recommended. While it cooked, she walked into her bedroom, pulling off her clothes and letting them drop into the wicker hamper before pulling on a long, soft t-shirt she often wore to bed. She let her hair loose, running her hands through it and massaging her scalp for a few minutes to relieve the lingering tightness.

She heard the microwave ding and made her way back to the kitchen. She pulled the microwave-proof plastic bowl out and set it on the counter to cool for a few minutes while she fixed a small salad and a glass of sweetened iced tea to go along with it. She carried everything into the small living room and put it down on coffee table. She found the remote stuck between the cushions and turned the television on. She turned it to a local news station and watched long enough to catch up on what had happened that day, before turning it to an old romantic movie on a classic movies channel.

She unhurriedly ate the tasteless meal and salad, sipping her tea. Before long, she realized how late it had gotten and turned off the tv. She washed the plate she'd used for the salad and the glass she'd used for the tea before she slowly made her way towards the bedroom. She sat down on the edge of the bed and opened the drawer of her nightstand table. She pulled out a small box and sat it beside her on the bed, tears already filling her eyes. She opened the box and stared down at a small collection of objects.

On top was a silver charm bracelet, jam-packed with charms that jingled melodiously as she picked it up, clutching it in her hand. Under the bracelet was a small stack of photographs. Crystal ran her fingers gently over the familiar face in the photo. If you didn't know it, you would think that she was stroking a picture of her own face, it was so similar to her own. But Crystal knew each and every difference, each miniscule thing that was dissimilar.

Crystal carefully lifted the stack of photos and put them aside. And let the tears flow unheeded as she stared at the last item in the box. Above a picture of the face from the photographs were the words "IN MEMORIAM" and under it, "EMMA GRACE CONNORS". Sobs broke free from Crystal's throat as she clutched the bracelet to her chest, sliding forward onto the bed. She had no idea that Jareth watched as she cried herself to sleep, as she had every night for months since her twin sister had died. Died from a cancer that should have been treatable if caught in the early stages as Emma's had been. But no one could have foreseen that Emma's body would react badly to the treatment and that the very thing that was to have saved her would weaken her body's resistance to the point that the cancer could take her life.

"Why did you leave me, Em?" She cried, before the anger came. "Why did you even have to exist? I could have been happy, happy if you'd never been born! Rather than leave me here all alone! Why, Emma?" She whispered as she slipped into a series of horrible nightmares where she relived every moment of hell she had gone through as her sister battled for her life against a monster that was too strong to fight. If only she had been able to help her fight, Crystal thought, in dreams. Together we could defeat anything!


	2. Chapter 2

When she awoke the next morning, Crystal was as tired and drained as she had been the night before. She forced herself out of the bed and into clothes. She made herself sit and eat an apple for breakfast before gathering her dance clothes, her bag and her keys. She carefully locked the door behind her and started down the four flights of stairs to the ground floor. The stairs helped to keep her in shape. She smiled at Mr. Helgeson as she passed him in the lobby and walked out the door. She put a pair of headphones on and turned on her mp3 player as she walked towards the dance studio. She let herself in with her key, seeing her partner and her teacher waiting for her. She nodded to them before changing quickly and hearing the music for her number, hurried back to the dance floor.

Between the music and the dancing, she could go mindless. Her focus was on the music and on the dance, with no chance to stray towards the thoughts of the night before. Her mind was focused solely on the practiced movements and precise steps of each dance and leap. Her partner, Joaquin, caught her, lowering her to the floor before turning for his next steps. Crystal took two steps, turned away from him, and turned back before leaping forward into his arms. She saw his horror as she realized that he was off balance and missed her. She landed in a heap on the floor, muscles aching and her knees and elbows throbbing where they had absorbed the fall.

Suddenly there was a flurry of movement around her as the teacher, Joaquin and several other students flocked to her. They shouted questions at her and accusations at Joaquin. She waved them all away, stinging from the wooden floor as she climbed to her feet. She carefully made her way to a chair, Joaquin begging her forgiveness. The teacher ran to get the emergency kit as Crystal cradled her elbows against her chest, finally noticing the spots of blood on them and on her knees.

She had fallen many times before as a dancer, but she honestly couldn't remember the last time, let alone the last time she'd landed so hard that there had been blood. She could more easily remember the one and only time Emma had come to practice with her and had tried one of the leaps. She'd been too heavy for Crystal to catch and they'd both fallen, Emma had landed hard, her chin cracking hard on the wooden floor. She'd gotten a bad cut on her chin that had left a scar, though it was almost invisible unless you were really looking for it.

Joaquin helped her strip out of her clothes-as he was homosexual, he certainly wasn't interested in her-and to clean the scrapes as well as they could. He wrapped bandages over them after swabbing them with anti-bacterial cream. He lent her a pair of sweatpants and she pulled her tshirt on. Madame Alonzo, the teacher wouldn't allow her to dance anymore today and sent her home.

Instead of heading home to her empty, quiet apartment, Crystal headed to a local outdoor market. She browsed the stalls, looking through stacks of books, oohing and ahhing over some jewelry (none of it as good as Mr. Helgeson's), and gathering a few fresh pieces of fruit for her lunch. She watched as the young man behind the makeshift counter sliced the pineapple she'd chosen, mixing it with a variety of other fresh fruits: peaches, cherries, watermelon, strawberries and grapefruit sections. She blushed as she thought he had a very nice smile. "Please, come back. Anytime." He said, handing her the plastic lidded bowl with her fruit salad. She handed him some money and smiled back. He handed her back her change and a small card with the name of the stall and his name underline. "Very nice to meet you, Finn." She said looking at the card and smiling back at him.

She turned and walked away, making her way to an empty table at a small open area where shoppers could sit and enjoy their purchases and watch the market's bustling activity. A small band- a guitarist, a fiddler, and a drummer- was standing nearby playing a variety of songs, mostly folk tunes. Several couples were up and dancing. Crystal sat and watched them, having no idea that she too was being watched. She finished her fruit salad and threw the plastic container into a recycling bin that was set up along the large fence that enclosed the market.

As she walked home, she caught brief flashes of white at the edges of her vision, sending her mind spiraling back to the night before and the large white owl that had flown at her window before disappearing. She remembered seeing white barn owls at her aunt's home in the country, where her aunt ran an owl sanctuary. But she honestly couldn't remember any of them being as big as the one that had flown at her window the night before and scared her nearly to death.

When she arrived back at the apartment building she checked her mail box, relieved to find no bills, no letters from her mother to accuse her, to remind her that she wasn't the only one suffering the grief of a lost loved one. She climbed the stars to her apartment, feeling strange because of the fact that she was actually home before dark. She opened the door and locked it behind her, heading straight for the bathroom. She stripped out of her clothes, noticing the small spots of blood at her elbows and knees where it had seeped through the bandages. She threw them in the sink, pushing the plug deeply into the bottom so that it wouldn't leak and turned the cold water on to cover the clothes so that the bloodstains wouldn't set. She sat on the toilet seat and waited for the sink to fill before turning it off.

She turned the water on in the bathtub, letting it fill with steaming water before she sank into it, hissing at the burn. She laid her head back and closed her eyes, going over and over the routine she and Joaquin had been performing in her mind. Every step, every pointed toe, every lift. It should have been perfect. Why wasn't it perfect? She felt anger move through her and groaned, sitting up in the tub. She grabbed a bar of soap and a washcloth and ruthlessly began scrubbing herself, making sure to push the soapy cloth deeply into the scrapes on her knees and elbows. Clean, she flicked the stopper from the tub with her toe. She let out a sigh then stood up and turned the shower on for a just a moment to rinse off and wash her hair.

She walked into the living room, unaware of the eyes that followed her. She brushed her wet hair out slowly detangling it. The fading sunset bled into the room, blazing the walls with orange, pink and fiery red-gold. It glinted over her hair, gilding it with color. She was happy to see the end of another day. Since Emma's death, Crystal no longer knew what to do to get through the day. Dancing kept her mind focused, because she could injure or kill herself if she wasn't careful. But once the classes were over, everything was just empty. Time to fill until Crystal could lose herself in dreams.

Television was boring and her mind would wander. The same was true for reading, she'd read a single sentence over and over again. Life felt meaningless. Tonight, just like every night since her twin's death, Crystal cried herself to sleep. But this night was different in one way.

Jareth stood over her, watching the tears dry on her cheeks as she slumbered.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for any mistakes in this y'all, my proof reader was extraordinarily busy this week dealing with stuff! Hope you enjoy it!**

**~J.**

* * *

Crystal woke several times during the night, haunted by dreams of a strange man and a white owl like the one she had seen a few nights before. When she finally couldn't stay in bed anymore, she got out of the bed. She knew it was going to be one of the bad days, one of the days where she wished she, too, had died. A day filled with depression so deep that it was like she was sinking into a pool of the deepest, darkest water with no way out. She felt like the living dead; she had no energy though she'd slept for hours longer than she had in months. She looked at the clock and grimaced. It was only six in the morning. She had a full twenty-four hours to get through before she could go back to losing herself in dance. She truly hated Sundays.

Sundays were the days when she and Emma used to go to the park. They would spend hours during the summer laying on a blanket, drinking lemonade and reading books; in the winter they would skate on the lake until they were pink-cheeked and ready to drink some hot chocolate from one of the vendors before going back out and skating more.

Sundays were also the days where the dance studio was closed and she had to keep herself entertained for the day. Or at least keep herself from going slowly mad, hour by hour. She put on clean clothes, not bothering with a shower or brushing her hair. She sauntered into the living room and plopped down on the couch, turning on the television for background noise. She couldn't even begin to concentrate on the stories of wars, politics and celebrity romances.

She sighed and pulled a notepad from the coffee table in front of her and began to make a short grocery list. On the side of the paper she also wrote down what all she needed to do for the day. Laundry was at the top of the list. Most of her clothes were in need of a good wash, as was her bedding. She also needed to check the mail. She glanced up at the window, where sunlight was beginning to peek through and slant over a wooden easel. Covered with a tarp was the last painting she'd worked on months before, when Emma was first diagnosed. "I should get rid of it," she thought.

She looked down at the list and was horrified to see that she had begun sketching on the side of the paper. She ground out a hollow-sounding "No!" and ripped that piece off, shredding it into tiny pieces before slamming them into the trash can next to the sofa. She wouldn't allow herself the joy that painting and sketching had brought her. Sketching and painting were equated with Emma. Thinking of Emma was a very bad thing. She invaded Crystal's dreams every night…except last night.

Crystal began to wonder about the odd dreams. She was so used to dreaming of Emma; waking with sore, tired eyes and cheeks streaked from the tears and a soggy pillow. She knew she'd never seen the man before, she'd have remembered someone that striking. Taller than her by quite a bit, his clothing had been an odd mix of medieval and some kind of spandex. Weird. Really, really weird.

His eyes were what had gained her attention, though. They had seemed like deep pools of sadness. It had caught her, as if they mirrored the pain and grief she felt deep down to her soul. When she'd woken, it was sudden, and she would have sworn she could feel the stranger caressing her cheek as he'd been doing in the dream. She could almost smell his scent on the air, a mixture of smoke, sea water and caramel.

Crystal roused herself from her reverie and stood, stretching. She walked into the kitchen and searched for something that looked appetizing, knowing she still had to feed her body. She decided on scrambled eggs and toast with a glass of lemon water. She prepared the food quickly, adding no spices or seasonings. It was as plain as possible. Bare nourishment. Why should she enjoy food anymore when the rest of her felt dead?

She washed her dishes and put them away before walking to the bathroom where she yanked a hairbrush through her hair, barely even wincing as it caught snarls and tangles in the teeth. She put her hair into a quick ponytail and slathered on SPF 50 sunscreen all over her face, arms and hands. She brushed her teeth and decided against even trying to use makeup to hide the dark circles under her eyes and the sadness in them. She looked at herself just to make sure she looked decent to go out in public and flicked off the light as she left the bathroom.

She slid her feet into simple ballet flat-style shoes and grabbed her purse and the list from her notebook on the coffee table. She tore the page out and tossed the notebook back onto the couch. As she left the apartment, she locked the door behind her and made her way downstairs. She waved politely at several of the neighbors. Mr. Helgeson stopped her for a moment.

"Oh, Crystal, there you are, dear. Here, I made this for you especially," He said, smiling and holding out a necklace to her. She smiled, the old man often gave her jewelry out of the blue. This one was a bit different from the regular simple beaded necklaces he gifted her with. This one was made of tiny blue glass beads twisted with a strand of beautiful amethyst beads. Strung in the middle was a beautiful pendant and Crystal brought it nearer to her face to see it more closely. It was a beautifully carved owl in clear-white crystal. "Mr. Helgeson, this is beautiful! But I can't take this! This must be worth a lot of money. You could sell it and make a lot of money for this."

Crystal tried to hand it back to the old man who took it and grinned. "Nonsense!" he half-shouted and came up behind her, clasping it around her neck and leaving it to fall on her breasts. "There, perfect. Run along now, dear. Oh, and if you find any more of those chocolate-dipped cherries you know I love, would you mind picking me up a box?"

Crystal laughed and nodded, as she walked out of the apartment building. She stopped in the lobby to check her mail slot in case there was anything Mr. Helgeson had missed. She was glad it was empty. Still no letter from her mother, that was a relief. She continued on her way, walking to the grocery store where she stocked up on the basics of bread, milk, eggs, and microwave meals. She also grabbed tea bags and sugar, iced tea being the only caffeine she allowed herself. She did the self-checkout line and dutifully carried her cloth tote bags filled with her purchases home and put them away in their appropriate places. She prepared a kettle of boiling water for making the iced tea; when it whistled, she poured the water over the tea bags.

While the tea steeped, Crystal stripped her bed of the quilt, sheets, pillowcases and pillows. She carried them to the small utility room which held her washer and dryer. She stuffed everything into the washer, added the detergent and color-safe bleach and started the wash. She returned to the kitchen where she strained the tea, added the sugar and poured it all into a lidded pitcher and put it into the fridge to cool.

While the washer was going and the tea was prepared for later, Crystal took out her cleaning supplies. She swept and mopped the floors, though they were already spotless. Though she had just dusted the week before, she wiped down every available surface. She flipped her mattress. She emptied out every drawer and organized everything in them. She took out the garbage.

When the timer on the wash went off, she put it into the dryer and placed her clothes in the washer. Almost all of her clothes were gray, black or dark blue, she didn't really need to sort them into categories. She did separate the underwear, however, as they were so delicate and she didn't want to ruin them. While her clothes washed, Crystal went into her bedroom and began taking anything brightly colored out of her closet and drawers. She folded them and placed them into a box to donate to a local thrift shop.

She looked at the clock beside her bed and realized it was finally 6pm. Sunday was almost over, thank whatever deity was listening. Though at this point, Crystal wasn't even sure if anyone was listening at all. If they had, they would have let her die alongside Emma. Dusty and grimy, Crystal walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower as hot as she could possibly stand it. She slipped under the spray and moaned as the heat hit her. She briskly washed herself clean of the lingering dust and sweat before sliding her head under the water and washing her hair.

She turned off the water and just stood there for a moment, enveloped in the steam, wrapped in it like a cloak. She closed her eyes and let herself breathe in the humid air, scented with the freshness of her shower gel and shampoo. She wrapped a towel around herself and stepped out of the shower onto the bath mat. She dried herself quickly, wrapping the towel around her hair. She dressed quickly in pajama pants and a tank top. She stared at herself in the mirror, looking into her own eyes, trying to find their secrets. She didn't know how long she stood there before she blinked and came back to herself.

Crystal wandered out into the kitchen, the towel still wrapped around her hair. She made a quick, filling supper of unseasoned chicken breast, mashed potatoes without butter or salt, and green beans. She ate without tasting anything (not that there was much to taste, anyways), and only ate until her stomach stopped growling, with 2/3's of her food still left on her plate. She put the rest of the food in the refrigerator wrapped in saran wrap.

She sat down on the couch, grabbing her list from her purse on the table, where she'd tossed it when she'd come back with the groceries. She mentally checked off that she'd done everything on the list and then tore the list into small pieces, tossing them into the garbage can. She flipped on the television and lost herself in thoughts for a while before it was time to go to bed and begin another week of as little reminiscing as possible.

As she climbed into bed, she wondered if she'd dream of the strange man again, or the owl. She slid the owl necklace Mr. Helgeson had given her and hung it on the frame of her bed over her head. She flicked off the light and laid there, staring at the plain white ceiling, tears slipping from her eyes in silent grief, until all became blackness and sleep took her far away. Away where there was no pain, no hurt, only music and dancing. And in the shadows Jareth watched her.


End file.
